


build them up with worn out tools

by kuzuhina (Know_Your_Paradoxes)



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Abusive Parents, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet, Canonical Character Death, Childhood Friends, Childhood Sweethearts, Descent into Despair, Eye Trauma, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Inspired by Music, M/M, Mild Gore, Platonic Kuzuryuu Fuyuhiko/Pekoyama Peko, Sad, Super Dangan Ronpa 2 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-01 11:19:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8622610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Know_Your_Paradoxes/pseuds/kuzuhina
Summary: He was born to be a machine; he was not meant to feel. His feelings were meaningless, and he knew this better than anyone else.





	

**Author's Note:**

> "take all that you have, and turn it into something you would miss if somebody threw that brick, shattered all your plans . . ."
> 
> Inspired by "Sowing Season (Yeah)" by Brand New!

On the night after he found out that Natsumi Kuzuryuu was dead, Fuyuhiko woke up with tears in his eyes at two in the morning. His heart was beating against his ribcage at a tempo too quick to pace, and his hands were trembling. He sat up in his bed, tears staining his cheeks, lightly dusting the freckled skin.

He remembered seeing her corpse -- it looked peaceful but there was nothing less it could've been. She looked like she was sleeping almost, as though the hit of the weapon against her skull had put her to a dulcet rest she could wake from at any minute. Her mouth was open, almost like she was going to speak or sing or scream. The splatter of blood was almost too perfectly shaped like those you'd find in the movies, oddly formed to near unbelievable levels. It looked like an art exhibit, which scared the absolute fuck out of him. He had never wanted to liken the death of his sister to that of something one might find in the Louvre, but there it was, serene-looking enough to calm the mind, despite the subject material. The picture engraved itself behind his eyelids, and absolutely refused to stop haunting him. The police caution tape was wrapped around his throat now, choking him to death, and that bitch -- that horrible girl with dark hair and demonic eyes that hated Natsumi more than any normal human should -- was staring at him, a psychotic grin plastered across her face. Those five letters hung in the air like stars, reminding him of the name of the girl who he was almost certain had stolen his twin sister from him years too soon. There were no more words to even describe his anger, especially towards the perpetrator. But there were no words that could describe his agony, his suffering, his fear, his sadness...

Fuyuhiko grabbed at his throat, surprised that there was no actual caution tape cutting off his circulation. His first instinct was to start yelling, but he had to keep it bottled up inside of him.

He was born to be a machine; he was not meant to feel. His feelings were meaningless, and he knew this better than anyone else.

Machines were not supposed to cry. Machines were not supposed to feel anger towards people who killed their sisters. Machines were not supposed to be afraid of what might happen if they were to extract revenge. Machines were not supposed to hurt. Machines were not supposed to scream. Machines were not supposed to compare the deaths of their loved ones to paintings or sculptures.

He took a hold of his wrist, keeping his hands on his knees, where they're meant to be in order to keep the machine working. He didn't need to start breaking himself. Not now. Not now that he'd finally convinced his parents that he was as emotionless as they wanted him to be. Not now that he hadn't broken down in weeks. Not now that Peko was asleep in the room next to him.

Fuyuhiko's heartbeats were slowing down, and he was finally starting to calm down. The image began to fade like an old photograph from his memory. The simile made him chuckle. Photographs. Mahiru Koizumi. The reason why he was in this mess. The reason why Satou and Natsumi wanted to pounce and tear each other's throats out when they saw each other in the hallways. She wasn't the sole reason, it was more of a clash of personalities, but Mahiru certainly hadn't helped. She'd been something for them to start fighting over -- they'd never had a reason to squabble before she'd stepped in and won Satou's heart.

Natsumi had always been more in tune with her impulses than Fuyuhiko, but when it came to love, she was brazen and unabashedly loud. She was a scary force when it came to being in love. And she loved Mahiru Koizumi harder than she had ever loved before. Her heart was an open photo album when it came to her. Mahiru had been so kind to them both, which Fuyuhiko would always be grateful for, but she was nice to both of them, and that sparked them both to clash. Their personalities were too similar and stubborn to let go of her, and Mahiru had never wanted them to fight like that.

Stop thinking, stop thinking, stop thinking, stop thinking, stop thinking.

Fuyuhiko grabbed his pillow and pressed it against his ears, hoping to deafen his own thoughts. He wanted to escape his head, to stop concentrating on the negatives and thinking about the good moments he had with his sister. She was a good person, and he missed her horribly, and he wanted more than anything for her to be here, sleeping in the same house, so that he could actually get a decent night's rest.

God knew that Natsumi deserved to be here more than him.

If she would've actually been there, she would've slapped the fuck out of him. She would've told him to man the hell up and stop babbling like a baby. Natsumi would've stayed there and made damn sure that he would've stopped that blathering right then and there. He would've listened to her, because she had that effect on people. She could lead a horse to water AND make it drink. There was no denying it that she was the spitting image of their uncle. Natsumi was much more suited to be the heir to the Kuzuryuu yakuza empire than him. She wanted it more than him. She wanted to be talented so much more than he ever had. She had so much more potential than he did. She was much better suited for this work than Fuyuhiko could ever be. And now she was dead because of that spitfire temper of hers.

Natsumi Kuzuryuu was the dead sister, and Fuyuhiko was supposed to be the non-remorseful, unwavering, unbreakable machine that had no time for mourning. The night after his death and he had almost completely convinced himself that he wasn't going to be upset.

"Young master?" a calm, quiet voice rang. The echoes bounced off the walls of his tiny room, and his head snapped quickly to look to the doorway.

There she was, the only person who ever understood him. Peko Pekoyama, who was raised from birth to serve him as nothing more than a sword, who somehow was more human than anyone else Fuyuhiko had ever met. He looked to her with tears in his eyes, still holding onto his wrist, trying not to start clawing away at his tear-stained face. She looked concerned.

He closed his eyes and said, "Peko, can you please come here?"

She listened to him, walking gracefully towards him, sitting down next to him and holding his hand. "Young master, I'm so sorry about what happened to Miss Natsumi. I can't imagine how it must feel." She kept her mouth open, as though she were trying to say some more empty words that Fuyuhiko wouldn't believe, but couldn't seem to form any. She looked up at the ceiling like there were stars hanging on string.

"I can't imagine it either," Fuyuhiko said, and he meant every single syllable.

* * *

A week passed after Natsumi died when he met Hajime Hinata.

At lunch, he sat down. Peko had been sitting away from him, since he had told her to stop being so close to him, live her goddamn life, stop worrying about me, why do you have to make this so hard for me, I need to be alone, please stop, it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts. Thoughts raced through his head at alarming rates, flashing past and then almost as sudden having never even been there. Why couldn't Peko see that he needed to work through everything by himself? Why couldn't she understand that having her doting on him like a mother would only serve to make things worse? Why couldn't she realize that what he needed most was for her to let him go right now?

Letting go was a good phrase to describe it. He was grateful he had thought of it that way, because it perfectly described the exact feeling he was going for.

Peko was a great person, but she needed to let him go. She needed to loosen her grip on his hand and let him sink. Most people would find this metaphor to be a little backwards, considering that a lot like to think of being let go as being freed, but Fuyuhiko didn't need freedom. He didn't need freedom at all. He needed to let his emotions get the best of him so that he could learn how to deal with them later. He needed to start letting loose his tears, so that he could drown in them until there was nothing left for him to cry about. He needed to be allowed to scream or sob instead of being told "I'm here for you". Natsumi would've done the same fucking thing and that wasn't going to help him now. Peko just couldn't comprehend the sheer amount of stress and anger and terror and devastation that was hiding within his heart and threatened to escape through his throat. The only thing he needed in this life was to be left the fuck alone so he could cope like any other person should.

"Is anyone sitting here?" a voice asked him. His head was spinning and he couldn't quite place the voice, but goddamn, he somehow felt like he needed someone to talk to, even though he'd just told himself that he needed to be alone.

Fuyuhiko looked up to find a boy his age with big green eyes and hair that stuck up way too much. He shook his head, as though he were nonverbally pleading with the boy to sit down in front of him. The boy seemed to take the hint through his motions and sat his lunch down on the table, soon following suit. His heartbeat was ringing in his ears and there was nothing more that he wanted than for this boy to care about him.

He looked to where Peko was sitting, but she didn't look back, so he took an assumption that she was okay with this boy sitting there in her place. He knew that she would actually be really hurt by this, but he needed to talk to someone -- anyone, as long as it wasn't her. He knew that it would help more than it would hurt.

"My name is Hajime Hinata. It's nice to meet you," the boy said, a lopsided grin on his face. He looked dorky, but he looked cute. Fuyuhiko had no qualms about calling the boy cute in his head, knowing that anyone who would've seen that goofy smirk would've thought the exact same thing.

"Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu. Nice to meet you too," he replied, trying his best not to sound too abrasive. Goddammit, he wanted to be his friend, and he didn't want to turn him away like this. His voice broke into pieces, despite him not feeling like he needed to cry at all.

"I'm in the Reserve Course," Hajime said, picking up his chopsticks.

He gave a slight nod down to the table. "I could tell by the uniform." He closed his eyes and reprimanded himself for being sarcastic. This was no time for him to be acting like this, especially since he was actually trying to make friends with this kid. He opened his eyes, looking Hajime into his bright green eyes. "Sorry, I've just been a little snappy lately."

Hajime nodded, as though he understood. "Yeah, I... I heard about what happened to your sister. I'm really sorry that happened, but... it was something that nobody could help, right?"

Fuyuhiko gulped, almost choking on his food. How was it that Hajime understood what he was feeling and more about the entirety of the situation than any of his family or Peko? He knew that the death had been unavoidable, yet nobody seemed to treat it like that. They would always say "there's nothing YOU could have done", rather than the more accurate "there's nothing WE could have done". Now, suddenly, there was this boy with big eyes and an endearing demeanor saying exactly what he felt and being so kind to him. He wasn't even sure if he deserved this kind of kindness.

"Yeah... y'know, I'm really glad you said that instead of 'you'. It makes me feel a lot better knowing that somebody at the very least understands."

The brunette nodded. "Well, I talked to your sister on occasion, and she was... she wasn't nearly as welcoming as you've been." Hajime let out a little chuckle before continuing, "But she really cared about you. I'm an only child, so I can't really even imagine what it's like to have someone who cares about you that much. Natsumi was always gushing about how she wanted to be just like you."

His eyes darted to Fuyuhiko's as he replied, "Heh, really? That's funny. I always wanted to be just like her." The pain in Fuyuhiko's eyes must've been blaring at the poor kid like a flashing neon sign, because Hajime didn't press the topic further.

Instead, he went on about himself, and they had normal conversations, like normal kids with no talents hanging over their heads and no dead siblings looming in their brains would have. It was one of the most amazing conversations that Fuyuhiko had ever had, if not simply the most amazing in and of itself. He almost wanted to cry due to the kindness that this random Reserve Course boy was showing him. With every word, Hajime became more and more kind and handsome. It was insane how much he already liked him, and he'd rarely known the guy for more than 10 minutes. They spoke about nothing, and everything, and anything, all at once, and that moment felt like the first glimpse into a non-violent, non-criminal, non-Kuzuryuu life.

Now that Fuyuhiko had gotten a taste of the world outside the Kuzuryuu clan, he wanted more.

"Uh, c-can we talk after school too, or something? Or... maybe meet up sometime?" Fuyuhiko asked, his cheeks growing warm. Despite having no intention other than getting away from his life as a criminal, he felt like he was asking Hajime out on a date.

This seemed to be what Hajime was thinking of as well, because his face also flushed, making the tiny dustings of freckles across the bridge of his nose visible for the first time since he'd first sat down in front of Fuyuhiko. They looked like stars, and a terrible thought washed over Fuyuhiko -- he actually DID kind of want to see this bastard again for reasons more than just getting away from the rest of the world. Hajime was cute, and Fuyuhiko had no hesitation in thinking that, but he had never expected to like him as that. He had never thought that he would be associating the word "cute" with Hajime almost automatically. He had never imagined what it would be like if he actually did ask Hajime out on a date.

He needed to stop thinking this way. Peko was sitting not very far away, and he had only known the boy for about 25 minutes.

Hajime nodded, his motions choppy and rough-looking, rather than the normal, confident, smooth nod that would be expected. "Uh, y-yeah, sure. That sounds... that sounds nice," he answered, still blushing.

The thoughts kept flooding, even more so now that Hajime had accepted the olive branch being extended to him. Fuyuhiko had never been this taken aback by his own mind. It was eerie how much he already liked Hajime. He wasn't sure if he had a crush yet or not, but there was more to this than wanting a means of escape, that was for damn sure.

"Well, I should probably go, but it was nice meeting you!" the brunette says, getting up. He gave a tiny wave to Fuyuhiko before swiftly turning on his heel and walking away, leaving him to admire the grace in his steps.

Peko surely hadn't seen what had just happened, but he kept his guard up just in case, making sure to peek over to her every couple seconds to secure that she wasn't about to give him a lecture about not talking to strangers.

But when the world was already full of strangers, including himself, wasn't he safer learning who they were?

* * *

"I saw you talking to someone today. What is his name?"

Fuyuhiko continued looking at the ground as he answered, "Hajime Hinata. Reserve Course. Our age. Talked to Natsumi some. Nice guy, I suppose."

"Does he know anything about Miss Natsumi? Anything important?" Peko's voice sounded almost motherly, as though she were trying to convince Fuyuhiko that Hajime wasn't worth talking to, like he was a bad influence on him.

Fuyuhiko shrugged. "Not much. Said she liked to talk about how much she wanted to be like me. Doesn't surprise me any. She'd always wanted to be the Heir, not me. We mostly just talked about ourselves."

Peko's voice got even more motherly. "Are you sure that this Hinata isn't the person behind the killing?" Her question felt like a stab wound to the gut. She didn't REALLY think that Hajime was the one that'd killed Natsumi, did she? After all, he'd told her about Satou and Natsumi's fighting too many times to count. There was no way in hell that she didn't think Satou was the one that'd killed her. It was really the only possible answer to the problem. Peko wasn't really trying to get him to stop talking to Hajime because she believed he had blood on his hands, was she?

"Peko, listen. You and I know damn well that this is that bitch Satou's fault. Not yours or mine, or Hinata's. She killed Natsumi over a fucking grudge that she'd been harboring for years. There wasn't anything that we could've done. Natsumi was the one that got herself into that mess. We're the ones that have to reap the consequences."

"I'm just worried, Young Master. What if this case isn't as black and white as you believe it to be? What if Satou wasn't the one behind the death of Miss Natsumi? You have to understand why I'm so concerned." Peko's eyes were closed, her silver braids framing her face in the light of the sun as they kept walking. "Do you, Young Master?"

"Yeah, I get that you're on edge, but so am I! She was my fucking sister! My TWIN. Don't you get that this hurts me more than it'll ever hurt anyone else?"

Peko stopped walking and Fuyuhiko stopped almost instantaneously with her. "Your pain is my pain, Young Mas-"

"NO, IT'S NOT." Fuyuhiko's voice echoed a bit through the stagnant air surrounding them. "You don't understand the least bit how it feels. You don't get how badly this fucking hurts. You've never lost someone this important, Peko. You don't have to do EVERYTHING for me, you got that? I'm my own fucking person, and right now, I feel like you're treating me like I'm a goddamn KID!" He choked back the tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes onto the crisp, off-white sidewalk. This speech was one he'd been dreading, and now that the time was finally here, he hadn't been nearly as prepared as he'd wanted to be. "Natsumi was my sister. You haven't lost a sister. You've lost one of the people you've been working under. That's not the same thing. We're not the same person. STOP TRYING TO BE ME, AND LET ME BE ME INSTEAD."

The words fell out of his mouth as Peko simply stood there, her jaw agape in shock. She looked like she was trying to form a response in her head, but her mouth was paralyzed so that it couldn't bring the words to life. She was still as Fuyuhiko regained his composure and begun to stride off.

He kept walking for so long. He wasn't sure why he didn't stop walking. His legs were tired and his lungs burned, and his thoughts weren't going away no matter how fast he went, and he felt absolutely powerless. This was the first time in his life where he had felt like he'd had no sort of power, and it scared him more than anything else in the world. And suddenly he was running. His breathing grew even more heavy and ragged than it had been with him walking quickly, and his heartbeats were throbbing against his ribcage as he ran. His heart was racing and there was nothing more he could do to try and escape reality than to just keep running and hope that he never fell down. His head was spinning. He could barely even see where he was running. He had no idea where he planned to stop, or IF he ever planned to stop. He'd passed his house long ago, and was now somewhere far off. There was nobody around, it seemed, except for the chirping of birds, singing songs that nobody would hear but him, this broken boy who's been running for too long from everything in his life.

Finally, after almost a half-hour, he gave out and sat down. He'd made it into a field of relatively tall grasses, lying down on his back and looking up at the setting sun. Here, it was peaceful. Here, he didn't have to think about the things that were hurting him. Here, he could escape by looking up into the colors above.

"K-Kuzuryuu?" a voice asked, startled. He didn't have to look away from the vibrant orange sky to know who this voice belonged to.

"Uh, hi. Before you ask, no I was not stalking you. I just happened to stumble into the same field as you did," Fuyuhiko responded, looking to his left to see a disgruntled Hajime Hinata, with rougher-looking hair and a loosened tie.

He looked calm, like he belonged there, in a painting of that scene perhaps.

It had only just occurred to Fuyuhiko that they were already so close, and he hadn't even realized how close they were, or that Hajime was even there, despite them being near each other enough to even hold hands or touch noses if they looked in opposite directions at the same time.

Hajime simply let out a nervous, yet understanding laugh. "Yeah, I mean, I didn't figure you'd want to follow me anywhere," he said, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down his jawline. The sunlight was catching his light freckles again and Fuyuhiko could've sworn he felt his heart skip a beat. "S-Since you're a Main Course student and I'm just a... just a Reserve Course."

"That shouldn't matter whether or not I want to spend time with someone. Although when I said that I wanted to meet up with you again, I really wasn't expecting it to be this fucking soon."

The two of them laughed a little, their eyes shifting from moments of them gazing at one another to them both staring up at the bright skies above. The moment felt like it belonged in a movie, it was surreal, but whole, and it felt beautiful. Fuyuhiko was tempted to grab hold of Hajime's hand to continue the theme of the cheesy movie scene, but soon decided against it.

"So, what brings you to the Field of Reflection?" Hajime asked, with the same lopsided grin he'd given earlier that day.

Fuyuhiko scoffed. "Really. Is that what they call this field? Last I knew, it was just Tall Fucking Grass Field Number One Million or some bullshit like that." Hajime laughed, a clear, dulcet string of notes that seemed to linger a bit in the air afterward. "But I guess if that's what you call it, I'm here because I was running away."

"Oh. Uh, was it yakuza stuff?"

"Nah, it was actually my bodyguard. Her name's Peko Pekoyama."

Hajime nodded as soon as he heard the name. "Yeah, I've read about her. The Super High School Level Swordsman. She must be amazing to watch in battle. I would love to be able to meet her." His voice trailed off into a small sigh, as though he were beginning to daydream. The way his voice raised in pitch was adorable, and Fuyuhiko resisted the urge to make him continue speaking about his fantasies of interacting with the talented Main Course students. "But I don't understand why you'd be running from her if she was trying to protect you..." He tilted his head as much as he could with the ground below, his mouth getting smaller and his eyes getting bigger, like a young child's asking if they could have ice cream.

"She tried to get me to believe that you were the one behind Natsumi's death. And then she tried to tell me that Natsumi wasn't killed by her own fault." No point in lying, Fuyuhiko thought, as he let the words come out like waterfalls. "Can you fucking believe the nerve she has to talk like that in front of me? I mean, she's my best friend, we have been since we were in diapers, but... Shouldn't she know me by now?"

Hajime's hand brushed against the back of Fuyuhiko's, and a shiver ran up and down his arm. "I can assure you that I'm not the person that killed Natsumi. In fact, I wanted to help her feel better about herself. She'd always hated being in the Reserve Course, and so I tried to cheer her up. And after that last time I saw her, she was dead."

"I know you didn't do it, it was that bitch Satou. She's had it out for my sister since middle school. All over the affections of someone else." 'Tch.' "If I were ever in love with someone, or even if I just had plain old feelings for them, I'd never KILL someone for their attention."

"Yeah, I totally understand what you're saying," Hajime replied, having since turned over onto his right side to look down at Fuyuhiko. "But I think that until the school and the cops have enough solid proof, you shouldn't do anything too rash. If it turns out that Satou isn't the person that did it, you'll be facing some very serious consequences. Do you think that you can do that, Kuzuyuu?"

When Fuyuhiko turned to look around, he saw Hajime extending his pinky finger, with a smile on his face that accentuated the freckles covering his cheekbones even more prominent than they'd been in regular sunlight. He smirked at the thought of pinky-promising with Hajime, but decided to humor him nonetheless. He soon extended his own pinky and wrapped it around Hajime's. Despite it being a minor thing that most kids even did when they wanted to keep something a secret between themselves, it felt like so much more than just a simple hug between pinkies. It felt more like a pact, or a bond that they now shared. It was amazing how much he seemed to like Hajime, considering that he'd never really had any friends his age before him (other than Peko, whom was not his "friend", but instead his "tool", in her own words) until he'd waltzed in.

It felt like hope.

* * *

A day had passed and they had exchanged phone numbers. Fuyuhiko had felt his heart flutter a bit when Hajime passed him the scrap of paper at lunchtime. He was really starting to think that he liked him, and more than just in the sense of "he gives me something to think about that's not all the terrible shit in my head". He was beginning to attach himself to Hajime, and he wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not. The more he thought about Hajime, the more he felt like he was beginning to grow fond of him, and for reasons unbeknownst to him, this didn't really sit well.

Peko had grown distant from him ever since yesterday, and he was both grateful and saddened by this. Peko had always been his best friend, and for her to be avoiding him made him feel like he had done something irreversibly wrong.

"Uh, hey, Hajime? Do you think you could come over?" Fuyuhiko asked, with tears in his eyes as the phone pressed against his ear. He wasn't sure what was going on, or why he was crying like this, but he was, and he needed Hajime to come over and talk to him so that he could eventually calm down. He wasn't sure if it was really going to work, but he wanted to at least try.

Hajime's voice was strong and stern as he replied, "Of course. Just tell me where you live, and I'll be there."

He gave the address with shaking breaths, telling him as much as he could. It was late at night again, so he told Hajime to be careful while walking there, especially considering the yakuza groups nearby. Hajime merely let out a little laugh and said, "When haven't I ever been careful?"

Fuyuhiko rolled his eyes. "Try when you punched Juzo fucking Sakakura. That was really stupid of you, no offense. And wasn't that not very long ago? You dumbass, getting yourself into that trouble. You're a good guy, but holy fuck are you impulsive." He chuckled at the thought of seeing Hajime going toe-to-toe with Juzo Sakakura. Hadn't he known that Sakakura was the former Super High School Level Boxer? Still, it was impressive that Hajime had even managed to lay a single hit on him, all things considered. He'd had been known for never letting his guard down, so for someone like Hajime to manage to land a punch, it was pretty badass. "Gotta admit though, Sakakura getting hit was one of the most badass things you could've done."

"Thanks, I try, y'know." Hajime sounded boastful, but in the cutesy, more humble way, rather than the "hell yeah, tell your friends not to fuck with me" kind of way. It was endearing coming from him.

"Whatever. Just get your ass over here so I can talk to you."

It had been only minutes before Fuyuhiko heard Hajime knocking at his door. A moment of pure panic shot through him as he ran to his window and hissed, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Hajime looked around for the source of the noise before finally looking back up at Fuyuhiko. "Uh, knocking on the door?"

"Do you WANT to get fucking killed by Peko or my parents? You climb up to my window, right now. Use the tree."

Hajime blinked a couple times in utter dumbfoundedness before walking over to the tree that was standing next to the window and beginning to climb. His limbs wrapped around it, and for some reason, he looked graceful that way, where normal people would look stupid and clumsy. His movements were calculated and precise, and it took him only a few minutes to reach Fuyuhiko's windowsill. "Hey," he said, sweat drops beginning to roll down his forehead. His hair was sticking up less than usual, probably due to the physical activity. "Uh, would you mind helping me in?"

He outstretched his hand, and Fuyuhiko grabbed it, feeling the soft skin and calluses on his fingers. A part of Fuyuhiko wanted to just keep holding it like this, but another part of him wanted to let go as soon as he possibly could. Once Hajime was inside, Fuyuhiko shut his window. "Thanks for being here."

"No problem. You sounded upset on the phone. I'm worried about you." Hajime sat down on Fuyuhiko's bed, patting the space next to him, as if he were inviting him to sit down on his own mattress. Fuyuhiko took the offer, then began to let loose the tears that he'd been holding back. "It's alright to cry. You don't even have to tell me anything."

"Why are you being this nice to me?" he asked, his voice shaking. "I don't understand. You barely knew my sister, you only met me yesterday, I'm a fucking yakuza... Why do you even fucking care whether or not I'm alive?"

"Don't you dare say that ever again. You're important." Hajime's voice broke into a thousand pieces. He grabbed a hold of Fuyuhiko's wrist and looked him dead in the eyes.

He'd never noticed that lighter green line in his eyes before. Suddenly, Fuyuhiko felt himself spiraling down into an abyss that existed solely in Hajime's eyes. That one line was enough to make him realize that he was starting to fall in love with Hajime Hinata. His heartbeats thrummed in his eardrums, like the soundtrack to an action movie. He could feel his cheeks getting warmer. "Fuck," he whispered, even though he knew that Hajime would be able to hear him.

"Why'd you just curse?" asked Hajime, sounding a bit apprehensive. "You okay?"

"Hajime, can... I hold your hand?"

The question seemed to take Hajime aback, but he didn't refuse, intertwining his fingers in Fuyuhiko's. His soul lifted a little at the feeling, and he felt like he could stay in that moment for the rest of his life. "I don't know why you want to hold my hand, considering I'm not really all that... but if it makes you feel better, I'm happy to help you." Hajime looked confused, but sincere, which was comforting.

"Do you even realize how good you are?" Fuyuhiko asked.

"You're fucking incredible. One day you've known me and already you're helping me. I don't fucking get it. I don't understand why you're being so amazing. You're... you're too good. You're too good to be here. You're too good to want anything to do with me. Hajime, you're... a good person. And I'm a fucking criminal. Why do you care about me?"

Hajime's eyes met with Fuyuhiko's once again. The intensity of the gaze was almost enough to bring Fuyuhiko to grab him by the collar and kiss him.

Wait, did he really just think that?

"Listen. You don't even understand. You wouldn't. I can't really even explain myself to you. Natsumi was a good person deep down, and I know that everyone can be a good person, even you. I wanted to help you through the hard times, because I thought that you needed a confidant. Maybe even a shoulder to cry on. But... there were other reasons." Hajime's face looked eerily red, as though he were blushing. "I'm... I'm not exactly sure how I can... bring myself to tell you, but... here goes."

He took in a deep breath. "I thought that you were cute. I'd thought that ever since I'd first saw you. Before Natsumi's death, before I ever even knew your name, before I knew you were part of a yakuza clan. I had no idea who you were or why I thought that you were cute, but I did, and honestly? I still kind of do. Is... is that weird? I'm really sorry for making this so awkward. I didn't mean to make it this awkward... honestly I really just wanted to be honest with you, but this was a bad idea. I shouldn't have said that... Oh god, I've messed up, haven't I? I-Ignore what I just said, it was dumb, really! I was just-"

"You're a fucking dumbass, aren't you?" Fuyuhiko had a grin on his face as he looked at Hajime. "You're really dense. Clearly I thought you were worth my time, too, dipshit. Plus, I was really nervous when I was asking to talk to you yesterday because I thought that it sounded like I was asking you out. I didn't think that you swung that way, and I didn't want to make a bad impression on you. Look, what I'm tryin' to say I guess is... I kinda like you too?"

Hajime's eyes lit up like sparklers. "R-Really?" His voice sounded quiet and meek, almost incredulous, like he really didn't understand why Fuyuhiko would ever like him like that. It was yet another reminder that Fuyuhiko wasn't as straight as he thought he was.

"Yep. It's your lucky day." He smirked, tightening the grip on Hajime's hand. "You're a good person, and... I'm luckier having you here with me. Really. It means a lot to me that you'd take the time to help me out."

Hajime nodded. "No problem!" A moment passed before he asked, quietly, "Can... can I kiss you?"

With no hesitation, Fuyuhiko put a hand to either side of Hajime's face and leaned forward, leaving a gap for Hajime to close. His heart skipped a beat once their lips finally touched, a smile forming on his face almost immediately. There was no clash of fireworks, no force of love, no battle of feelings. The kiss was everything that Fuyuhiko could've ever hoped for his first kiss to be. It felt normal. It felt like coming home. It felt like returning to a place you'd been so long ago and remembering every single moment you'd shared there. It felt like a stolen moment, but it was the best kind of stolen moment. It felt right. It felt like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle snapping into its perfect place, showcasing the art that had previously been unfinished. There were so many metaphors to describe the way that kissing Hajime Hinata felt, but Fuyuhiko couldn't even come close to mustering up each and every one of them. They were all so good in and of their own right, and together, it described everything that he felt when their lips collided. He felt Hajime's hands wrapping across his waist, pulling him even closer, and this was all that Fuyuhiko had ever dreamt of. He'd been hoping for a day where he would be able to meet a nice person and fall in love, and here it was, right then, right where they sat. It was within grasp, and he had it.

He fell in love with Hajime the way that people fall asleep -- slowly at first, and then all at once.

Neither one of them seemed to want to pull away, but Fuyuhiko finally broke the kiss in order to be able to breathe properly once again. "Holy shit... that was..." His voice was quiet and almost dumbstruck.

"Yeah, you've got that right," Hajime agreed, little bursts of laughter in between his words.

And suddenly, the two of them were laughing, the tear tracks that had been running down Fuyuhiko's cheeks now dry. Their hands were still interlocked as they laid back onto the bed, looking at one another and giggling like schoolgirls at the mention of a curse word in the assigned reading. This moment was what Fuyuhiko had always wanted out of life. Being able to let go and live for himself, to let his emotions run free... this was paradise.

Hajime stopped laughing first. "Do you think that things can stay this way? For a little while, at least?" he asked. The dust of freckles across his face were suddenly much more pronounced than they had ever been, which was saying something, all things considered. "I've never felt more... at peace. I could get used to this." His voice sounded strangely resolute, as though he were stating facts rather than asking a question. And, for the most part, he DID look peaceful. He looked calm, and he looked happy, which made Fuyuhiko's heart leap into his throat and leave him tongue-tied.

"Don't worry, I plan on making sure that things stay this way for as long as they can."

* * *

"So, I take it that something happened last night in order to make you feel this happy?" asked Peko. She was looking down at the floor, at her shoes -- something she'd normally never do.

Fuyuhiko took in a breath before answering her. "Well, I can tell you that something DID happen. Nothing too exciting though."

"What about the Hinata boy? I saw him sneaking out of the house. Did he do anything to you? Did you do anything to HIM?" Her barrage of questions caught Fuyuhiko off-guard.

"Uh, in case you're asking what I THINK you're asking, no, I've still got my purity in tact, but thanks for being so concerned, Peko. And no, I've still got all my limbs, I'm pretty sure, so Hinata didn't do anything to me. There, are you satisfied with my answers? Can we stop playing 20 fucking Questions now? I'd like to get to lunch, if you wouldn't mind." Fuyuhiko tried to step past Peko, but she blocked his way, her face burning bright red at the brashness of his first statement.

"Young Master, you know that isn't what I meant when I asked if you did anything to him."

Fuyuhiko sighed. "No, he's fine. He's still in one piece, so I like to think that I'm a real fuckin' sweetheart." He flashed a brief, over-the-top, cheesy smile to Peko before once again attempting to walk past her. It was no use. She was like an iron wall.

"What was he doing in the Kuzuryuu household?"

"I asked him to come over and I didn't want anyone to jump him at the door so I had him climb through the window. Nothin' drastic, Peko, for Christ's sake you make it sound like I committed a fuckin' felony. I'm allowed to have friends, aren't I?"

Peko's voice was a bit deeper than its average pitch as she stated, "I don't believe you two are merely friends."

Her words cut through Fuyuhiko's defenses like a sword. It was almost unsettling how she'd managed to break through his sarcasm. She was a master at battle, apparently both verbal and physical. Fuyuhiko let out a deep breath, knowing that he wouldn't be able to keep up with her now that he'd stammered in his argument. Her counter was simply too much to handle, and he couldn't come up with a clever retort in enough time to throw her off the scent. She stood in silence, her expression unforgiving, waiting for a response from the shorter boy.

"Alright, fine. Ya caught me. What, do you want a fuckin' medal or somethin'? You're not getting a damn thing, I'll tell you that much for sure. Just because you managed to figure out that I kinda have a crush on the poor bastard doesn't mean that you have the right to stop me from going anywhere until I confirm your suspicions. You're not my fuckin' mother."

Peko looked a bit startled by the harshness in his tone. "I'm not trying to be your mother, I'm merely trying to protect you. That was what I was raised to do. I was born to serve as your personal sword, and nothing more, and I'd like to know if there's anyone that you'd like dealt with. I still don't trust this Hinata boy, but if you believe that he's really a decent person, I'll try to let my guard down." She sounded robotic in tone, almost. It was frightening how much she started to seem like a machine. Fuyuhiko had never noticed that before. To him, she'd always seemed normal. But now that he'd gotten a taste of the true "normal", he knew deep down that Peko was nothing but. She was just as broken as he was, and had her own flaws. Her heartbeat was just a little off, just like his. They were one and the same, even though they'd experienced so many different situations. They'd been raised from birth together, and they'd known each other for as long as they could remember, so clearly Peko would want to make sure that Hajime was a good person.

"I don't need a fucking tool, Peko. I never wanted a tool. You're a fucking human, and that's all that I want. I want you to be my friend. I want you to support me. I'm starting to feel a bit better about Natsumi, and I don't want to fight with you anymore."

"I never wished to start a fight, Young Master. I was merely stating that I don't believe Hinata is to be trusted. There was no argument there-"

Fuyuhiko let out a bit of a grunt. "Are you fucking serious? You can't be serious right now. Of course there was an argument there! You were fighting with me because you don't think that I'm making a good decision! I know what I want and I know what's best for me. I'm not a fuckin' child, Peko!"

Her face looked tired, the bags underneath her eyes even more large and dark than they had ever been before. He had never seen her look this aged. She looked like she wanted to walk away and slap him upside the head. He looked down at the floor, unable to meet her steely gaze. Peko was scary when she was like this. She looked calm enough, but that was a cover for her being either incredibly upset or angry. He didn't understand why she'd be upset or angry with him, since he was merely stating the truth.

"Young Master, I need to go," she said, her voice once again stern.

Peko then began to walk past him, in the opposite direction of the cafeteria. "Wait, Peko, you're goin' the wrong way-" he began to say, but this had no effect on her. She kept striding past, her steps elegant and poised, not unlike those of Princess Sonia. He immediately began to follow, grabbing his phone and beginning to text Hajime that he was going to be late to lunch.

He should've guessed she'd be on the rooftop.

The rooftop was their place to talk, mostly just talking about stuff in Fuyuhiko's life that he was angry about or upset about, or sometimes even just to stare at the sky and the view of the world around them. It was amazing how beautiful the world was when he was seeing it from that angle. A new perspective was always refreshing, and this one was especially so -- Hope's Peak Academy had been named well. Truly this was the place where the real hope would start to bloom. There was nothing for him in any of those godforsaken classrooms (despite him having been incredibly close with Yukizome-sensei as of late); he'd always wished that he could just spend every day of the school year on that rooftop. It was a breathtaking sight to see. His heart was beating quickly in his chest at the view spread out before him. He sat down on the concrete and stared out at the horizon, the bright blue sky engulfing his entire vision.

There sat Peko, with a pensive look in her crimson eyes. "Young Master, you didn't have to come all the way up here to talk to me. Honestly, I'm fine."

"I can tell when you're lying to me, Peko. You get that look in your eye. The one that looks like you're about to burst into tears. Please, you know you can tell me anything. I won't judge you. You're my best friend."

She let out a sigh and looked down at the concrete near her feet. "Alright, but... I dearly hope that you don't hate me for what I'm about to say to you."

He looked confused at Peko's sentiment. How could he possibly hate her for that? How could he hate her for anything? They'd been partners in crime since their diaper days. It was absolutely impossible for him to be upset about anything that she could possibly say to him. It was silly to him that she'd even have to worry about that kind of thing. Unheard of, even.

He smirked. "Why would I ever hate you? You've been my only friend for years. Really, if anything, I'll probably like you more."

"Then maybe what I'll say will end with a happy note for us both.

"Young Master, it has become clear to me over the past couple of days that I have developed romantic feelings towards you. I'd been denying it since we were much younger, but I finally came to my senses not long ago."

Fuyuhiko was stunned. He had sort of been expecting it, but he didn't really expect her to say it right then. Peko was never one to sit on feelings for long, or really at all, especially considering that she thought of herself as a tool. She was a very mechanical person, processing things very quickly and executing just as quick. And she was telling him about her emotions? This was foreign territory to him. "Um, I don't really know what to say, actually. I'm... really sorry, Peko. I just got things figured out with Hajime, and he really makes me happy..."

"I understand. That's why I didn't want you to be upset with me."

"Peko, why would I ever be upset with you for having feelings? You're a human being, that kind of thing happens all the time. If we could control who we fell in love with, the world would be a different place. I didn't think that I would have feelings for Hajime fucking Hinata. I literally just met him yesterday, and already we've kissed. It's been three days maybe and I'm already smitten." A warm smile crept onto his face at the thought. How HAD he managed to fall in love with him so quickly? He didn't even realize his own capabilities, he supposed.

"I'm aware. He's a good person, I know. I suppose I may have just been jealous. Although it bothers me that I'm feeling any sort of emotions at all. I am nothing but a tool to bend to your will. I should not have feelings. I am not worthy of having feelings of any sort. I am nothing but a sword. An extension of my user. That is all I can be." She had sadness in her eyes and regret on her breath. "I am nothing if not servile."

Fuyuhiko looked at her as though she had just told him the most confusing thing that he'd ever heard in his entire life. "Are you being serious right now? You're... you're not a tool! You're a human being with wants and needs and feelings! You're my best friend, and you deserve to think that you're a real human being instead of something shiny for me to flaunt! I know that you were raised from birth to think that you weren't anything other than a hitman for hire, but you have to understand that even though you might think you're a machine, you do have your own free will."

Tears began to flow down her face, for the first time that he'd ever seen her start crying. "You think that, but you aren't me. I was born as a human, perhaps, but I was raised to be nothing but steel. I... I never learned to exercise my human rights."

He hadn't even thought about that. It was true -- she'd been brought to the Kuzuryuu clan as a baby, and had been trained to serve under him ever since that day. She'd been a good little soldier, both literally and figuratively. She had a terrible childhood, especially considering that she'd taken her orders from his parents, who almost killed one another and their own children every single time they got into an argument, who raised their own children to be emotionless as well as their bodyguards. They were coldhearted monsters, criminals to the bone. It was alarming how horrible they could possibly be. Their work was precise, and they set an example for what they expected everyone else to be, even if there was no possible way for them to be that.

He was born to be a machine; he was not meant to feel. His feelings were meaningless, and he knew this better than anyone else.

* * *

Days passed and he hadn't heard or seen Hajime. He'd seen him once or twice the day that he and Peko had finally talked, but after that, he'd been gone. Other than the fact that he'd talked about his fight with Juzo Sakakura, he hadn't even really said anything to him other than the usual small talk. Hajime had told him that he cared about him a lot, and that he loved talking to him, but really other than that, he hadn't said anything that hadn't been said before.

His heartbeats thumped in his fingertips, and they'd synced perfectly with Fuyuhiko's. The two of them had been kindred spirits. It was almost scary how well they knew each other after only a few short days. He felt like he'd known Hajime for years, even though they'd never met before not even a week prior. He felt like he would've remembered someone as amazing as Hajime Hinata.

And suddenly, it almost felt as though he did.

_Scraped knees, the sound of other kids' chatter surrounding him, and a grin that was missing a couple baby teeth were what immediately came to mind. He had been with a boy his age, whose eyes were green and hair was stuck up in a fashion that reminded him of a weapon of sorts. This boy had to have been him, there was absolutely no one else it could've been._

_The two of them were racing, so it seemed. They had goofy smiles plastered from ear to ear, and they seemed content with either result - win or lose. It was at a moment like this that Fuyuhiko would've later realized that he wasn't cut out for the yakuza business._

_"Eat my dust, Kuzuryuu-kun!" Hajime said, turning his head back to face him as best he could. Their eyes met and he winked a little._

_A blush broke out onto the shorter boy's face, turning the freckles that spattered across the bridge of his nose even darker than normal, and this thought brought to mind the light freckles found on Hajime's face as well. This was clearly after he had realized that he had a tiny schoolboy crush on Hajime Hinata._

_Fuyuhiko rolled his eyes. "Whatever, the only thing I'll be eating is the sweet taste of victory, Hinata!" his voice was at least twice as high as it was now, and reminded him a bit of the sound of one of those animated chipmunks from those movies that Natsumi had jokingly made him watch. He began to pick up his pace, unsure of where exactly he was running._

_"Hey!" yelled Hajime, his voice suddenly farther away than it had been previously. "You're going the wrong way!"_

_Fuyuhiko managed to get to a stop, turning around to look toward the path that Hajime had been taking. He hit himself on the head with the palm of his head, as though to call himself an idiot without expressing it verbally, and then he began to follow the correct path. He knew the real way to get there, but he had somehow managed to forget in the excitement of racing Hajime._

_"Thanks for reminding me!"_

_"I didn't HAVE to, I could've let you run off and won the race, so thanks for being nice! Anyway, I'm still gonna win!" Hajime began to sprint, his longer legs giving him an almost impossible lead to catch up to._

_By the time Fuyuhiko had gotten there, Hajime had already managed to get to a full stop. "Ha, told you!"_

_He rolled his eyes, sitting down and lying in the field. "Whatever, so you won because you're taller than me. That's not because you're good at anything." He had a smile on his face as he spoke, and so did Hajime, as he too began to lie back and look at Fuyuhiko._

_It was just at that moment that Fuyuhiko'd realized that their hands were so close. They were basically touching, with only a sliver of space between them to constitute them not holding hands. He managed to blush again, realizing that he'd been so blind before. He was in love with this boy. He was in love, even though he didn't know what that meant or what it constituted of. He had it bad for this kid. Fuyuhiko decided to make the first move, brushing the back of his hand against Hajime's, and after a moment, he grabbed the other boy's hand and laced his fingers in between his._

_Hajime looked to their hands and smiled. "Hey, what's this for?"_

_"I don't know. I just wanted to hold your hand, I guess."_

_The best part was that Hajime didn't even question it, he merely accepted his hand being held. After a minute, Hajime looked to him again and asked, with wonder and curiosity in his voice, "Is this because you wanna kiss me? I've seen it on movies and stuff."_

_Fuyuhiko simply shrugged. "I don't think so."_

_"Do you wanna try to see? If you don't like it, it's okay."_

_He'd seen kissing plenty of times. His mom and dad had done it in front of Natsumi and him thousands of times, and he'd watched movies where it'd happened. It wasn't some massive revelation to his small, childhood mind. It wasn't exactly like he had no idea what it was supposed to mean, either._

_Hajime's free hand found it's way to Fuyuhiko's cheek, and he closed the gap between them, their lips colliding._

_His lips were incredibly chapped, but Fuyuhiko didn't really seem to mind it at all. Looking back on it, it was incredibly messy and really shitty, but he'd never really known that it was that bad when he was a kid, because he had lacked so much experience. Hajime wasn't exactly the best kisser on the planet when he was 9 either, all things considered. He definitely wasn't the worst, because Fuyuhiko had thoroughly enjoyed the kiss, but it wasn't the most pleasant first kiss anyone would ever have had._

_When Hajime pulled away, his eyes were closed still, as though he were still processing the emotions brought on by the kiss. Fuyuhiko's eyes were wide and he pressed, "W-Well? What'd you think?"_

_"It was sloppy!" Hajime laughed, and soon they both were, their hands still intertwined. "But what did YOU think, Kuzuryuu-kun?"_

_"I liked it. I think I like you. I wanna kiss you again. Maybe not right now, but sometime soon."_

_Hajime's eyes opened and they were greener than they had ever been._

Just like that, Fuyuhiko was taken out of the deep recesses of his own memory, and he was impressed at the lengths his own mind had to go to in order to retrieve that memory from him.

The first thought he had after that was "I can't believe I already knew Hinata." The second was "He's a much better kisser than he was when we were 9." The third was "Why were his lips that chapped?" The fourth was "Wait, did we get together when we were little kids, too?"

And the fifth thought was, "Wait a second... did my parents try to make me forget this?"

* * *

"What the fuck did you do to me?" he asked, slamming his hands down on the desk in front of his father. His mother was sitting to the right of her husband, and she had a look of surprise on her face. "ANSWER ME, GODDAMMIT!"

"What are you talking about, Fuyuhiko?" She seemed genuinely confused and a bit concerned, but Fuyuhiko could see right through that ruse. After all, she had really only married into the Kuzuryuu family for money. She'd never wanted to marry his father, and she'd never wanted to have children, much less twins. She'd been living the life that her husband had been providing for her for so long that she'd forgotten who she'd been originally in the process. It was almost sickening how she'd been molded into a perfect little machine for his father.

He snarled. "Don't act like you don't fuckin' know! Why can't I remember Hajime Hinata?!"

His parents exchanged looks of both fear at him finally having found out and of surprise that he had remembered in the first place. His father cleared his throat before trying to answer the question. Fuyuhiko merely cut him off. "Shut the fuck up and answer the goddamn question. You don't really care, so stop pretending like you're making an excuse to make it seem like it was for my own good!"

"Are you really defending a talentless boy? Are you defending someone who isn't worth a damn? Are you defending someone who only got into the same school as you because his parents had money? Why?" his father asked, his voice low and firm. Fuyuhiko had always hated how his father sounded like a stereotypical villain. He was a shitty parent, he didn't have to sound like one, too.

"I'm defending him because you made me think that he didn't exist! I'm defending him because you brainwashed me into completely forgetting that I knew him! I'm defending him because he was one of my best friends and you made me think that I'd never even met him!"

His mother looked confused. "Are you being serious, Fuyuhiko? You can't be. He's not worth a damn thing. He's just a random boy. Also, why do you care now? How did you manage to remember?"

"Because I fucking love him, mom!" His eyes were faced down at his knuckles, which were turning white at the force of which he was holding the edge of his father's desk. He knew that neither his mother or father would approve, but he didn't give a single fuck that they were going to patronize him for being in love with a boy. He was nothing if not rebellious, and that was what he was going to do. He was going to make sure that they would accept him regardless. "Hajime means a lot to me. I loved him even when we were little kids, and after I met him again, I realized how much I liked him. He made me the happiest I've been in a long time, and goddammit, you two haven't done me any fuckin' favors!"

"You can't love him. You've only known him for a week."

"Shut the fuck up! I would've remembered him if you two'd let me fuckin' live like a normal person! I never got a say in whether or not I was normal! I never got the chance to determine my own goddamn life! I never got the ability to choose, because you never fucking LET me! I wanted to be a normal kid! I wanted to not have everyone be afraid of me! But you took that away from me and dangled that freedom right in front of my face when you let me meet him! How could I NOT have fallen in love with Hajime? He was everything I wanted to be! He was everything in my life that I thought would make me normal! He was everything that I could have ever wanted and you took that from me! You've ruined me! You made me into this bitter, horrible, cynical mess! You're the ones who turned me into some sort of monster who used to think that having feelings made me weak! You both broke me and broke me until you had this perfect little soldier! You're the ones who've made me love him even more, because he's the first person I've ever really felt this way about!"

Fuyuhiko's eyes were full of rage and fire, and his dad's were full of ice.

"Get out of the house. You can come back, but I don't want to see you again for another few hours. You disgust me," his father said, his upper lip snarling at him. His brow furrowed as he spoke.

"Gladly, asshole."


End file.
